waysoftheearth wrote: Sili and Norin, heroes among the Dwarves, pass from the light under the West Gate and into the Halls of their Mighty Forefathers -- perhaps they are the first of the Dwarves to tread here since Balin's ill-fated foray almost three hundred years gone?

Behind them come the light footfalls of Lmluin of East Lorien and Elindir the Half-Elven of Rivendell. 'Tis a strange party indeed, but these Halls have witnessed many strange things.

Within, Moria is all quiet. And dark.

The sunlight that spills over the valley beyond Hollin Gate seems aught but a subdued glow, and any sound of the outside world is sharply attenuated. The crunching of dust and rubble beneath the Dwarfs' boots is the loudest sound they hear, any of them.

Ahead of them, a great broad stair rises up, up and up into the greater dark. The stair is littered with rubble and dust, and no few bodies of the long fallen can be spied upon the road ahead. To be thankful, there is no movement nor sound to be seen or heard in the darkness.

waysoftheearth wrote: The two Dwarves lead the way up the broad stair. The depth and rise of the steps are comfortably set for their legs, but less so for the Elves who follow after.

Sili kneels to examine one or two of the ancient corpses they pass. These are, skeletal husks of fighters long fallen. Dust and cobwebs choke the gaps between withered bones and broken armour. Some few are the remains of Dwarves, but more are of foul Orcs.

The scouts climb perhaps 40 steps, so that the sunshine is but a small, distant square long behind them. Ahead the darkness grows thicker so that even a Dwarf may not go on without risk of tripping in the gloom. The stair seems to rise ever upward into the gloom...

waysoftheearth wrote: Sili is a deft hand with spark and tinder, and soon has one of his torches sputtering with an orange flame and held aloft.

By this new light does the party see that the way rises up and up and up ahead. There are fewer ruined bodies as they pass now, for it seems most of the slain fell at the gate, below, or else slid or were dragged some way down the stair.

It is a tiresome climb that take some minutes... more than 100 broad steps Norin counted before giving up. And still they climb. The West Gate seems a tiny thing now, farther even than the moon on a cloudy, winter night.

(Sili has the torch in one hand now, what does he grasp in the other; shield, flail or crossbow?)